The Forsythia Island in Wellesely

As we rush about our daily tasks, the landscape will sometimes interrupt the endless internal list making within our heads and cause us to pause. “Wow, that’s pretty” we exclaim. For one brief moment, we are taken from our errands and rest in the moment.

Driving into Wellesley on 135, there is an island on a curve that does this for us, especially at this time of year. We eagerly anticipate the white star magnolia that is the prelude to this brief respite. Framed by the maple that stands over her and backed by the crab apple, she sings a high note that catches our attention. The yews behind this grouping provide a pause before the crescendo of the forsythia. We sweep around the curve resisting the impulse to drive around the rotary once again, after all, duty calls.